


Deadman's Switch

by Tallihensia



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Drama, Enemies, Gen, and he's doing his darnest to hate Superman, because Lex is a comic enemy, but then... does he really?, but there's all that past too, how deep is the hate?, some character abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: Enemies with a past.  Many years have gone by since Clark and Lex were friends in Smallville.  Now, they're enemies.  But when Clark falls prey to a mysterious illness, can Lex really just leave him?





	Deadman's Switch

**Author's Note:**

> Mixing the Smallville TV series with DC comics. Based off the first few seasons of Smallville (AU after s3!). Set ~15 years forward. The DC borrowings are a mixed bag from Golden Years on forward to current, mix and match. Not from any particular continuality, but making a new one for this universe.
> 
> This was a very early work that I've never posted. It's actually one of the long-time epics that didn't quite get done. But this first part... well, this first part is what started the rest of the not-finished epic, and it's pretty darn stable on it's own. So I'm going to post it by itself.

# Deadman's Switch

Superman reeled, the blow sending him spinning in the vacuum of space. He straightened himself out quickly and then flew back. At the last moment, he dodged the claw coming at his face and got behind the creature. Getting a grip on the furry head, he twisted it to one side… In soundless space, he couldn't hear the crack, but he felt it, and then everything was still; the creature no longer trying to attack him. Superman signed and put his head down, resting against the creature's back, fingers tangled in the fur.

He hated to kill even mindless beasts such as this one, but it had attacked him without pause and dangerous enough that if it had reached Earth it would be humans that would be dead instead. Sometimes, that was the only choice. When the choice was between an innocent life and the one that would kill... Superman tried not to kill if he possibly could help it, and yet, sometimes there was no other way. 

Everything was quiet for a few minutes, then a meteorite whizzed by close enough to start them spinning. With a curse that was also swallowed by the stillness of space, Superman hauled the creature up and flew off in an opposite direction from Earth. When he was sure they were out of any orbital pulls, he shoved the creature's body off, spinning it into the blackness from which it came.

With another long sigh, he turned and headed home.

 

As soon as he came back through the atmosphere, while still high up in the sky, his comm beeped. Sometimes, Superman really wished he didn't have such a wholesome, upright image. This would be a wonderful time to curse freely. 

"This is Superman."

He was expecting somebody from the Justice League, but instead he heard the smooth dulcet tones of the Fortress AI. "Lex Luthor has kidnapped Lois Lane."

Clark just stopped. Stopped flying, stopped moving, stopped breathing. He didn't need this now, he really didn't. "How long…?"

"From my data, it appears that she was kidnapped a little over sixteen hours ago; however we just received the notice that she was being held ten minutes ago."

"Courteous of him." Sixteen hours ago, Superman had been flying off into space to deal with the creature coming in the solar system on a course straight towards Earth. Ten minutes ago, the satellites had probably picked up his re-entry trajectory. There wasn't much point in Luthor calling out for Superman to come and rescue Lois if there was no Superman around… but he probably was pissed off at the wait. Likely, Lois was pissed off too. Sixteen hours with Luthor? There was no way they weren't at each other's throats by now. Unless Lex had gotten so annoyed he put Lois in confinement. But Lois had a tendency to escape when Lex did that so he rarely did anymore. A small shiver of fear darted through him, worried that this would be the time Lex would go too far, be too angry at Lois, that Superman wouldn't get there in time. It wasn't a large worry; they had been sparring together for so many years that even Lois wasn't afraid of Luthor anymore. 

And his mind was spinning in circles, he was so tired. "Where are they?" Clark really wanted to go home, take a shower, get some rest… and then go rescue Lois. But he was pretty sure neither Luthor nor Lois would appreciate that. And of the two? He was more afraid of Lois. He could just imagine her reaction if she found out he'd done something like that.

The Fortress AI gave him coordinates and an altitude. Superman blinked at hearing the altitude reading, even as he was flying out there. His questions were answered when he saw it. The size of a football field (at minimum), it was an elegant construction, something he'd only really seen before when visiting other planets with advanced technology and stable civilizations. Functionality and grace were in every line, every curve of the design, as the majestic ship floated through the sky. It was times like these that Clark really regretted that Lex Luthor was an enemy and a key figure in the Legion of Villains. (He just couldn't bring himself to call it the 'Legion of Doom' – even for a spandex world, that was just too cheesy. Which was, he was sure, why Lex had named it that. Lex might have started the stupid thing, but he sure didn't take it very seriously.) Lex was such a genius – he could make such wondrous things, such beautiful things… what would this world be like, if all that brilliance was devoted to good, instead of this random violence?

A large door in the side of the ship opened as he flew up, and he didn't see much alternative but to fly in. Inside, Superman found himself in an open hanger. There was a small personal plane close to where he came in, but nobody was in it. Otherwise, it was empty; nothing else but him and the walls – which were layered with lead all the way around. He landed in the middle and looked around, trying not to show how concerned he was. 

A smaller door on other side opened, and Luthor walked through, with Lois and Mercy behind him. "Welcome, Man of Steel," the billionaire sneered.

Great. Luthor *was* pissed. And Lois didn't look too happy either, though she cried out gladly when she saw him and tried to run to him. She was stopped by Mercy's firm grip on her arm. Mercy, as usual, didn't have much expression, but Superman rather thought that she was exasperated. It certainly couldn't have been easy, being cooped up with both Luthor and Lois trading barbs for sixteen hours.

"Luthor, your scheme stops here." Superman folded his arms with the usual speech. "Let Ms. Lane go."

"Gladly!" Lex frowned at Lois and dodged a kick she aimed at his shins. "Mercy, will you please escort Ms. Lane somewhere where she'll be nicely occupied for awhile?"

"Occupied? Luthor—" Lois started to protest. She was interrupted.

"I was thinking Congo, over by Xb-39…" 

"Where the experimental mines are?" Lois perked up immediately, looking almost eager.

Clark groaned to himself. Perry would never have authorized the cost or the danger to send a reporter out there, but Lois had had her eye on it for over a month now, ever since she'd found out about it through another investigation she was running. Looked like Lex was going to get back into Lois' graces at least far enough so she wouldn't massacre him the next time they met. And Clark was about to get himself in trouble, but he had to point it out. "That's a very highly dangerous area. I'm not here to rescue Ms. Lane for you to drop her somewhere she'll be killed."

Lois started another protest, this time directed at Superman, but Lex interrupted. "Mercy will stay with her," Lex pronounced while waving a hand, negating that argument. Lois split her glares between the two of them.

"I will?" Mercy didn't look too happy either.

"You will." Lex gave her a look that conveyed some other things that Clark couldn't read. Mercy could, though, and gave Lex a middle finger before she pulled Lois with her and headed to the small plane. Lois' protests were only token, eager as she was to head to where the story was. She did look back worriedly to Superman, but he waved her off, reassuring her as their eyes met that he could take care of whatever Luthor threw at him. She quirked her mouth in a grin, believing in him, before turning back and entering the plane with Mercy. Superman watched it take off and the door stayed open long enough that he could make sure they were at least heading in the right direction. 

Now that Lois was nominally safe, Superman wasn't really that concerned about what Lex Luthor would do to *him*. Luthor had his plans, sure, and had hurt Superman greatly in the past. But he was careless and tended to gloat, and usually left Superman openings that he could take advantage of. It wasn't that Superman didn't take Luthor seriously – of all his opponents, Luthor had several times come the closest to killing him, and he would always be his greatest enemy… but Clark was tired, it had been a really long day, and he just wanted to get whatever it was that Luthor wanted out of the way so he could go home.

Somehow, even though Clark hadn't said a word, Lex used that mysterious ability that he'd always had to figure out what he was hiding, and the look that he turned on Superman was murderous. Clark raised his hands, but how did one apologize for a thought? And wasn't it just typical of Superman's weird relationship with Luthor that he was worried about disrespecting the man who was trying to kill him. 

Luthor stalked out of the room, all lean grace and cougar controlled movements – even after fifteen years, he hadn't really filled out much from the young man Clark had known in Smallville. He'd just gotten deadlier.

 

Clark started to follow Luthor, but before he'd moved a few feet, another person came through the inner door. This one was the total opposite of Lex, and Clark knew he was in for a fight. Seven feet of all bulky muscle and swaggering style, radiating a confidence that newly minted villains often had. And there was something familiar… "Dion?" Superman had captured the small thug months ago and watched him thrown in prison for beating up his victims horrifically. And when he called him 'small', he wasn't just talking about his mental status. Something had definitely happened to him, and Superman was afraid he knew what it was, with Luthor involved.

"Superman…" The new, improved bully showed his teeth. "You won't find me such an easy target now!" He gratuitously flexed the huge muscles in case there was any chance Superman had missed them before. _Oh God, I just don't want to deal with this right now._ Superman sighed. 

Lead panels slammed shut over the outside hanger door and the interior one. Superman looked around and spotted at least six cameras through which Luthor was undoubted watching. He was sorely tempted to mimic Mercy's gesture, but refrained in case this was being recorded. Wouldn't *that* be a great thing to get out on the internet? Some role model he'd be, flipping off his enemies.

He took a closer look at the modified thug, switching his vision into the between state that wasn't quite his normal but wasn't fully into x-ray… and saw the faint green glows that indicated the presence of a kryptonite mutation, confirming his theory. This time, his glare at the cameras was real. Of all the things that Luthor messed around with, this was the thing that Superman *really* hated. The mutations that kryptonite produced were rarely beneficial to their human hosts in the long-run, and when it was villains that mutated… the endings were almost never pretty. Clark didn't care if Dion was a volunteer (which he almost certainly was) – Lex Luthor had killed this man, as surely as if he'd put a bullet through his head.

And every time Clark started thinking just a bit better about Lex… he turned around and did something like this. All sixteen hours of holding Lois without harming her… with letting her loose in an exciting reporting area she couldn't get into on her own… all that, wiped out with the knowledge of this life that Luthor had just destroyed. Lois would also be furious when she found out. Any good will Luthor might have built up, gone, just like that. And that, possibly, was also the point. For some reason, Lex Luthor didn't like it when Superman or the Justice League thought he could be 'redeemed'. Every time he did something good, he turned around and did something equally as evil. Keeping them all off-balance and unable to ever think of Luther as anything but the enemy.

"I'm sorry," Clark quietly told the young man; man no more but mutant. Superman would have to, from this point on, stop thinking of him as a person and start thinking of him more like that space creature he'd just killed. It hurt, though. It hurt so much more than fighting something that was obviously brainless to begin with. And this mutation was still new – the physical changes had warped the body, but the mind was still pretty much human. The mental changes usually took longer. Which made this all the more sad.

"What?" The young man… the mutant shook his head and then leveled a blow at him. Superman caught the punch like a baseball, wanting to judge just how tough this mutation had been. They traded blows for a few rounds. Strong. The mutation was strong and tough. Much moreso than a human – humans would be kleenex paper. No way could this thug be allowed to return to the terrorizing habits of which he'd had before. Instead of the hospital, his victims would be in the cemetery. However, the mutant was not yet up to Superman's level. Maybe if it had been further along… but not right now. Superman could take him down easy. And that worried him. What was Luthor up to?

"Trial Stage One-A," Luthor's voice proclaimed over the loudspeaker, and at the same time, there was the sound of mechanics and then a panel in the wall rolled up. And a wave of weakness washed over Superman. The next blow sent him reeling back. 

_Kryptonite. The mutant wasn't the plan – he was only the instrument._ God. Luthor was in his experimental phase. Clark was worried now, like he hadn't been just a few minutes ago. Particularly about that "stage one."

"Trial Stage One-B." Another panel rolled up. The next hit left him with blood trickling from a split lip. 

Trading punches and hits, Clark maneuvered his way away from the open panels, towards the other side of the room. He was only paying half attention to the fight, looking instead for a way out. But as usual, Luthor's traps were well planned and well constructed. Not so easy to get out of. He let a blow crash him back so he could gage the strength of the wall. Lead-lined, yet with steel behind it.

"I really wouldn't do that, if I were you," Luthor informed him. "There is a lot of exactly what you do not like behind there. Do you really want to test the odds that you'll break a spot where there isn't some?"

Superman let his eyes roam over all the panels on the walls. How many of them had kryptonite behind them? The doors didn't. He headed for the outside one. And reeled back. The panel that now covered the outside door was coated in a thin light layer of green flakes… not normally enough to deter him, but weakened by the raw exposure and with a mutant pounding on him, even the weak layer kept him away. If he could dance around for a bit and then attack in it a rush…

A third panel opened with no pronouncement from the loudspeaker. This time, it was in a section near the outside door.

The next punch took him down.

"Trial Stage Two." The two inner panels slid shut. Superman could feel a wave of strength returning to him. And a better idea of what Luthor's plan was. 

He cursed silently, then used his cold-breath to freeze all the panels, building up a layer of ice between him and the kryptonite.

"I was wondering if you were too brain-addled to remember your other abilities. Nice try," Luthor's voice was patronizing and sneering. An intense wave of heat flooded through the arena, melting the ice almost instantly… and making the mutant yelp in pain.

_Microwave?_ Superman blinked at the counter-move. It had been a heck of an intense heat, and obviously well-prepared ahead of time. So, cold was out unless he could work with it quicker than he was...

"Trial Stage Two-A."

"Oh for pity's sake!" Superman snapped out as four more panels opened, each with low-level kryptonite but equally spaced around the room. "This is stupid!"

And he got hit with another several blows from the mutant, that he'd forgotten to watch. While he was struggling with that, he felt other panels open, each one taking him weaker and weaker, the hits pounding down on him… 

"I'm going to kill Superman!" the mutant gloated, sending a kick into his ribs and Superman could feel one of them break.

"Trial Stage Three." All the panels slid shut again. 

But though there was no more kryptonite radiating in the room, Superman's strength didn't return immediately. He could feel the rib regenerating in place, but where normally he would be almost completely recovered with the kryptonite gone, he still felt woozy and drained, movements slow and uncoordinated. And he had a headache.

He tried not to show it, though, and immediately went on the attack. If he could take down the mutant, he would take out at least one component of Luthor's plan (how many mutants could Luthor have in the back room? on the other hand, he didn't really want to think about that…), and give himself room to breathe. The mutant had reacted badly to Luthor's microwave, so Superman tried heating up the floor underneath him, give him a hotfoot, as it were.

The loudspeaker chimed on, "I've never understood your reluctance to use your heat beam directly on subjects."

Maybe because they were *people* and not *subjects*! Clark glared at a camera, forgetting to turn off his heat ray as he did so and accidentally blew it up. The headache was getting worse.

The mutant, after an initial bellow of pain, stoically marched through the super-heated metal floor and tried plowing into him again. With almost all of Superman's strength back, this didn't work so well. On the other hand, it looked like Dion's mutation was accelerating the longer they fought, and even though Superman put enough force in the next blow to debilitate, the mutant just skidded back half the length of the hanger and then came on again.

"Trial Stage Three-A."

 

"Trial Stage Seven." All the panels slid shut again. And Superman stayed on the ground, sides heaving, his whole body one giant ache. This was worse than pure kryptonite exposure. This was something akin to the times when his powers were removed and he was a normal person being beaten up and hung out to dry. *Plus* the kryptonite as well! Flashbacks to the Smallville High football prank went through his mind; hanging from the cross, Lana's necklace on his chest, every breath agony. And who had saved him then? They had changed a lot from those early days.

Hands pulled him up and then threw him across the room. He slammed into a wall and fell limply down. Manic laughter echoed through the room. "I will kill Superman! Nobody else could do it! But I will! I can!" Footsteps approached.

The loudspeaker came on, "Halt."

Clark opened his eyes in painful slits and watched as the mutant paused, and then came on. "No. You promised me I could kill Superman, and I will."

"There is something amiss, and the trial will have to be recalibrated. Stop where you are while I ascertain the problem."

From where he was lying, Clark would have given Lex a finger if it wasn't so painful. He really really hated Lex in scientist mode, experimenting and clinical, not giving a damn about anything at all. The maniacal super-villain yelling madly at him while aiming missiles at his head was preferable. At least then, Lex was human.

Another kick broke more things inside of him. The ribs had gone awhile back, so this was probably something else. Spleen maybe. Around the pain, Clark couldn't really find it in himself to care.

"I said stop." This time, Luthor's voice wasn't through the loudspeaker, it was echoing from the distance to the inside door. Clark raised his head briefly and squinted, seeing the lean figure silhouetted in the door.

The mutant laughed, hauling Clark up with one hand and raising the other for another blow. A narrow beam of light brightly flashed, illuminating the mutant's head for a second. Then all expression, all thought, all everything disappeared from Dion's eyes and he went limp, letting go of Clark as they both crashed to the ground. Clark could smell burnt flesh from where the laser beam had cauterized as it burnt through. A different set of footsteps approached, treading lighter, moving forward with that grace and surety that had captured socialites' imaginations everywhere.

The body next to him was ungently shoved out of the way, and a hand touched his forehead, lightly resting there. It reminded Clark, oddly, of his mother when he was young. Except, of course, for the dead body next to him.

"You're burning up," Lex murmured. "Now where, and how, did you catch a cold?"

A cold? It had been a long time since Clark had had one. No wonder he was thinking of his mom. This really felt horrible. Weakness that flooded his body, his head aching, his thoughts fogged, and everything just *hurt*. Not to mention how broken he was from the fight.

Movement from beside him, but Clark wasn't really paying much attention until the words got through his mind. 

"Get yourself and Lois into solitary. Try to contain anybody else you've been in contact with. I'll call you back when we know more." Lex snapped the cell phone shut and put it away.

Infectious? Lois? Clark tried to heave himself up, but was pushed back by a firm hand.

"Easy." 

"Lois…"

"Mercy is watching out for her. But the sooner we find out what you have, the better for all of us." Lex left his hand on Clark's chest, but was looking around the empty hanger. "And I can't haul you like this down to the lab." He looked back down, face serious, "Stay here for a bit. Don't move. I'm going to get a gurney, and I don't want you messing yourself up worse. You'll be even harder to fix if that happens." He rose smoothly and quickly left.

As soon as Lex was gone, Clark forced himself to a sitting position. He might have a fever, but he wasn't stupid enough to think staying in Lex Luthor's hands while he did was a good idea. He pulled out the emergency comm beacon for the JLA and tried to activate it. Only static was coming through. That meant he'd have to save himself. Now that he wasn't fighting a mutant on top of everything, he should be able to get out… With a grunt, he levered himself up. Stars spun and he found himself back on the ground again. The metal floor was smooth beneath his cheek.

"Idiot." Gentle hands rolled him over again. "Yeah, you're going to be fun to fix. Here, if you can get up and try and escape, you can get up onto the gurney."

Clark was going to protest, but he was just too tired. He moved where the hands guided him to and then he faded into blackness.

\------

 

Clark woke up to brightness. He squinted into the light, and then closed his eyes again. The brightness washed over him, warm and rejuvenating, like breathing in the summer while running through the corn fields. _Home?_ He could heard voices near him, and woke up a bit more to listen.

"How are you doing on the cultures?" Female voice. Familiar, but Clark couldn't place it immediately.

"50 sets made, divided into groups of ten in different incubation series. We don't know what makes it grow yet, but we better figure it out soon. We don't have days to spend waiting for it to culture normally."

Superman's eyes involuntarily snapped open, before he shut them again against the light. That was Luthor. Which meant... He sat up, turning to face his enemy. And everything shifted and he fell to the floor with a loud clatter and ringing of metal things falling with him.

"What was that?" Hope's voice was coming through a computer set off to one side of the laboratory table where Lex was working. 

Lex turned to look at Clark on the ground with a familiar raised eyebrow before he returned to the lab station. "It's just the idiot falling off the table. How are you doing on that comparative database search? Anything in the records similar to this virus?"

_Virus..._ The memories came flooding back, as Clark stood up, his cape fluttering to the ground as he did so. At which point he looked down at himself and then grabbed the cape in mid-fall and wrapped it around himself, the tips of his ears burning. Just what sort of experiments had Luthor been doing while he was unconscious? No, he didn't even want to think it...

"Get back on the table, idiot. Before you collapse again." Luthor didn't even turn around.

Ignoring the order, Superman looked around. He was in the middle of a laboratory, obviously. Lex was at one station, the bio-chemical one, but there were a couple of others set up along the walls. On the other side... Superman's eyes widened in shock at the rows of cubby-holes all filled with chunks and blocks of kryptonite, all glowing evilly greenly. He stumbled back, making sure he held onto his cape, looking frantically around. Why he wasn't curled up in pain right now... Weakness started seeping through his limbs, strength draining... He dropped to one knee, propping himself up against a cabinet, his head bowing against his will... His heart was racing, his stomach tied up in knots. The headache was back, worse than ever. 

"Super-idiot. Mega-idiot. Epic-idiot." Careful hands hauled him up and pulled him forward into the light.

Clark's strength started coming back and he blinked at Lex, standing next to him, holding him upright and close while his balance steadied. "What...?" He glanced upward, squinting at the setup that focused and projected light directed at the long metal table they were standing next to. Things shattered around the table showed that there had been multiple experiments and items set up on it originally. "Yellow Sun Energy?"

"Full-spectrum," Lex agreed, giving him a push to get back on the table. As Clark did-so, Lex handed him the cape that had dropped again. Clark blushed and draped it over his middle.

"Like I haven't seen it all before." Lex rolled his eyes. "You need to be as fully exposed to the radiation emissions as possible and your suit was blocking most of them. You're NOT recovered yet. Don't even THINK of wandering off. The sunlight is just helping your body to fight off the virus better than you could inside the ship."

"And I'm sure the kryptonite exposure didn't help!" Clark snapped, recovered enough for the moment to get angry again.

"It probably accelerated it, yes, but that's all to the better."

"Excuse me?"

Luthor just shook his head, "I don't have time for this." He pulled Clark's arm out to one side, "But as long as you've lowered your immunity for a bit..." Quicker than a serpent, Lex jabbed a needle into Clark's arm and started drawing blood.

Clark stared down in surprise, mostly that the needle had actually gone in. "Hey..."

Hope's voice returned, "He meant that if you hadn't collapsed now, the virus would have matured later and you'd be wandering around rescuing people, infecting them… And the way you flit about, how knows how many people would be affected by the time anybody realized you were the carrier. We're pretty sure you weren't infectious before today."

Clark's worry redoubled ten times over. "Lois?"

"Safe. And Mercy. The virus doesn't appear to be airborne, just contact."

Relief flooded through him. And then he looked down at the slim hand holding his arm... "Lex?"

Gray blue eyes met his scornfully. It was a familiar look, and a familiar feeling. Lex finished drawing the blood and walked back to the station, the small wound healing almost as soon as the needle was withdrawn. "Don't bother straining your black and white morality world. As much as you hate meteor mutants, sometimes the mutations are actually effective."

Clark blinked again. While Lex didn't hide it from him, he very rarely mentioned his healing abilities so blatantly. And *never* referred to the meteors as the cause of it. And if Clark touched that statement, even with a ten-foot pole, they were going to get in a fight. Probably not in his best interests right now. He hurriedly gave another glance around the room, his gaze finding again the green kryptonite… and not just green – there was some red scattered in there too. Clark gulped, flushing deeply, remembering red and just why Lex had seen all of him before… "Is it the Yellow Sun?"

Lex had returned to the bio station and was messing with homogenizers, petrie dishes, PCR analyzers, test tubes, thermocyclers, different types of microscopes… The station was a small version of a biologist and genetic engineer's wet dream. "What?"

"The kryptonite… it didn't effect me until I was outside of the Yellow Sun radiation."

"What are you talking about?" Lex put down the dish he was working on and looked around. He followed Clark's gaze to the cubby holes. "Oh, that kryptonite. No." The experiment again captured all of the scientist's attention.

The masses of exposed green evil rock was *seriously* freaking Clark out, and he didn't think it was a side effect of the fever. "Lex…"

The mad scientist heaved an annoyed sigh, but didn't turn. "It's not exposed – that kryptonite is shielded. You collapsed because outside of the radiation, your body isn't producing enough…" Lex paused and then restated, "Inside the field, your body is healing all the damage the virus is causing internally. Outside, the virus has a free-for-all. The Yellow Sun isn't killing the virus – you're pretty much riddled with it. But the more intense the radiation on you, the better you are at holding off the effects. We can't count on that for too long, though."

It was all very interesting, but Clark was stuck somewhere back towards the beginning. "Shielded?"

"Didn't you watch Star Trek IV?"

Talk about segue. They'd watched that movie together in Smallville. Clark had dragged Lex out to the theater running classics… but that surely wasn't what Lex meant. Several blinks later, Clark figured out the reference, "Invisible steel???" He started to get up from the table to go see and then remembered and sat back again. He tried to x-ray through the cubbies… but since he could already see them, he wasn't sure… but there was something – he couldn't see any internal structures, and while the rocks were glowing to his visible view, he couldn't pick out that special aura they had in his x-ray. "Holy crap." The words almost fell out of his mouth involuntarily. Again, he was reminded of just how brilliant Lex could be.

"Transparent lead," Lex sounded rather smug, obviously having heard Clark's pronouncement. "And it's not quite Earth technology, so nowhere near marketable. In fact, it has a lot more in common with Wonder Woman's plane than Scotty's engineering."

This was quite the day for weird revelations. "It's not all technology; she prays to her Goddesses to help turn her plane invisible."

"Yes, I know," Lex's reply was the exasperated tone of one who has just been told the obvious.

"You pray to the Amazonian Goddesses, and they ANSWER YOU???"

There was a certain smugness to Luthor's silence.

The silence only lasted a second before Lex started reciting culture test results to Hope. There was the sound of typing and then Hope responded, "Negative on that group. How is your culture set for twenty-three doing?"

"Damn. I'll get that set out. How's the database search going?" Lex pulled out another set of cultures out of the stability chamber and started another experiment.

"Still searching. So far, it hasn't found any points of commonality for the primary human viruses. It switched over to less common ones back when you guys were talking about the radiation." 

"You're searching with all twelve variations I gave you?"

"If you ask me one more time, Lex…"

Luthor sighed, "It's possible the kryptonite mutated it differently… those are my best estimates as to what it was before, but I'll come up with some other possibilities."

"Give it a bit more time, Lex – we might have super-computers, but we're looking through all the medical databases on Earth. That's not going to be a quick search."

Lex opened his mouth to say something else, and then shook his head and turned back to the experiments, putting some new samples into the autoclavable fermentors. Superman waited for a moment and when it didn't look like they were going to start talking again, ventured a question. "Kryptonite mutation?"

"The virus was mutated – that's how it infected you."

A mutated virus? Sometimes animals were affected by the green kryptonite. But not often, and he'd never encountered anything on a microscopic level before. "Have you contacted the JLA?"

Hope snorted. Lex didn't even bother to.

Okay, it had been only a remote possibility. "They can help. There are scientists and doctors affiliated who are used to dealing with this sort of thing." He was going to say more, but Luthor turned around to look directly at him, pinning him with an intense gaze.

"And how many of them," Superman's old enemy said softly, steel under the silk, "know anything about dealing with Kyptonians? And kryptonite mutations? No, I think not."

"I've worked with them before when I've been injured." Superman knew the argument wasn't quite true – there wasn't a lot they knew, and they definitely hadn't *studied* him and the mutations like Lex had. But that was also what had him so very worried about this situation. He didn't trust Luthor. Not one bit. And while it was true that Lex had the best chance to cure him, the *other* possibilities scared him shitless. The constant view of racks of kryptonite in cubicles, even if shielded, really weren't reassuring him. 

Luthor had returned to the test tubes. "Yes, and I'm sure they have a fully stocked lab, complete with Yellow Sun Energy."

"Even if we did transfer you over," Hope chimed in, "they'd never work with us. And there's no way we're going to let them into this lab, and it's possible you wouldn't survive a transfer to theirs." 

All valid points, but it went against his grain to just *sit* here… "Then my Fortress." Luthor already knew about it – he wasn't revealing anything with that.

This time, Lex did snort, "Yes, because I'm perfectly willing to trade my planet for your life."

"What?!"

"Idiot. Your AI only cares about *you*. It works to help you, and while most of the time that goes along with what you want it to do, who knows what it really will do at any given time? It might decide that the best thing to do is to make you immune to the virus and let the humans get infected as they will. We don't actually know what an infection will *do* to humans. The AI might even get creative. You *think* that Jor-El has been purged… but do you know for sure? How do you run a diagnostic on a system that you don't even understand? It's smarter than you are. Not that there aren't a lot of things that fit that description. But regardless, you can never be exactly sure exactly what it's going to do at any given time."

_Thank you so much for that wonderful set of thoughts, Luthor._ Great. Now *Clark* was feeling paranoid about his own best resource. Living in the world of constant paranoia must really be a problem sometimes. When did Lex ever trust anybody or anything? If you could always see all possibilities, and most of them were bad, then what choice was there? Especially if you were always shown how the bad ones were the ones likely to turn out. Even though he was eight years dead and buried, Clark still hated Lionel Luthor with an intensity that he usually reserved for monsters. Of course, Lionel probably qualified as one. Lionel created the son he'd always wanted… and Clark had lost a friend. _He was never mine._ But Clark knew that thought, in and of itself, was a lie. Lex had once been his. But Clark hadn't known how precious a gift that was, and didn't know how to hold onto him, had almost thrown him away, and Lionel had won after all. The familiar bittersweet pangs lanced through him. He didn't usually let himself think about the 'what if' of their history… but they also rarely spoke outside of the conflicts. And here they were.

"The AI will not hurt me or the people of Earth," Superman stated it quietly but with all the conviction and belief that he felt for it.

Luthor was silent for a minute, working on the experiments. Then he spoke so softly that even with super-hearing, Clark could barely understand him, "And that still leaves me. Your Fortress doesn't provide miracles without prices. Would you really want to trade Lois Lane's life for mine? Or one of your other friends? Who would die, that I might live?"

Clark winced so hard he almost fell off the table. Talk about old wounds being torn open. And… the manipulative bastard was right. Even though Clark didn't think that Lex was serious about what he said, that he was saying it just because he knew what buttons it would push on Clark, it didn't make Lex any less correct in what he said. Clark couldn't chance it. He wouldn't. Ever since that fateful day so many years ago, he'd never used the Fortress' abilities for another human.And for Lex… for Lex, Clark would be tempted. There was too much history between them, and he'd never yet been able to let his most bitter enemy die. Though there were a few times Superman had thought he'd been too late to save him. "You're not dead. And the AI wouldn't need a miracle to figure out a virus and devise a cure for it."

"Some would dispute that. However, if it's not a miracle, then we shouldn't need your Fortress."

Dispute what? Lex was turning cryptic again. Some of Superman's exasperation boiled over, "Then let me help!"

Lex actually turned around in surprise.

"I know biology and chemistry, and I certainly know Kyptonian biology! Let me work with you."

Lex glanced between the station and the table. There was about ten feet between them. "We should get some information on what the YS radiation will do to the cultures." Lex brought over some samples and other equipment. 

Clark thought it was in some ways make-work just to shut him up, but he really did want to do something. He felt bad enough about this, and his usual avenues of helping were all denied to him. After knotting the cape around his waist towel-style, he got to work.

After several minutes while they all worked in silence, there was a loud beep from the computer station. Lex dropped the test tube he was working on, and Clark was more startled by that then by the computer. "The virus?" Lex demanded of Hope.

"It's…" Hope sounded puzzled, "It appears to be very similar to a structure of the Hantavirus. I'm transmitting all the RNA and receptor details, marking the similarities and differences."

"A mutated mouse virus?" Lex turned to look speculatively at Clark and then snapped his fingers. He walked over to the station with all the displays and networked computers. On an upper screen, he pulled up an image of Superman fighting the space monster earlier. All of them stopped and looked at it. 

"Well…" Superman said dubiously.

"It could be…" Hope tried.

Lex snorted, "It's a mutated space monster, did you really think it would look exactly like a mouse?" He pointed out specifics, "It has incisors, the limbs bend the right way, the claws are arboreal, and it's furred, all of which is odd enough for a creature that lives in space, but the most obvious thing is that it was able to bite you – which indicates a likely mutation. Probably not an earth-creature, but when Kypton exploded, this wasn't the only direction the bits and pieces went. As we've seen before, planets with life tend to about seven basic patterns of evolution, resulting in similar physiological and biological features. If this was a mouse-like creature in association with human-like creatures, it could have evolved a hanta-like virus. The odds are high, but not impossible. Well, not with the patterns already established, that is."

"It bit me?" Superman was startled. 

A couple of taps on the keyboard and another scene was displayed, mid-fight, where the incisors were scraping over Clark's hand, a red streak showing a wound. Lex shrugged, "You were fighting in a direct line with solar rays and closer to the sun – the wound healed a few seconds after your skin was cut. And the creature didn't seem to be able to penetrate your suit, so there weren't any other instances." 

Clark looked from the display to Lex back to the display again. "Okay," he finally said, "I'll bite – how did you get these images?"

Luthor turned the scornful look on him again, "I own several satellites and inter-stellar telescopes. How do you *think* I got them?"

Okay, Superman admitted that was a stupid question. His stomach was cramping from being hunched over the table, and it just didn't seem right.

Lex's scornful look turned to one of concern. A few quick steps and Clark's forehead was being felt up again. The hand moved to his chest, where Clark realized that his heart was racing again.

"Fuck," Lex swore inelegantly. He glanced up to the light structure and scowled. 

"What do you care?" Clark wondered woozily. He only realized he'd said it out-loud when Lex switched into inscrutable mode, all of the expression on his face wiped clean and even his movements controlled. _What the heck._ Clark went on, with all the thoughts he'd been thinking for the last half-hour. "You're not sick. I don't think you *can* get sick, even from a mutated virus. You were just trying to kill me an hour ago. Why would you go to so much trouble to save me now?"

 

If anything, Lex's expression became even more shuttered. He moved away from Clark, and Clark missed the presence. "I was *trying* to ascertain the recovery time of your various exposures to levels and periods of kryptonite. And that project, thanks to your horrible timing, is now defunct. A 2.3 billion dollar airship, not to mention the extra billion in hazmat work putting in the lead paneling and kryptonite. All of that destroyed now, for a project that didn't even produce viable data!"

He turned around and stomped out of the room, leaving through a small door between the stations.

"Destroyed?" Clark asked to the empty air.

"When he moved you into the mobile lab," Hope responded, and Clark jumped – he'd forgotten about the remote connection. "The engineers took the airship down and set off the standard demolition routines. The standard routine is in stages, so after everybody is clear, the kryptonite was incinerated, the lead melted over it in case there are remnants, and then the rest of the structure is destroyed. And could you be any harsher to Lex? Really, I know you two are constantly fighting, but did he deserve that?"

Clark had been trying to wrap his mind around the idea that the gorgeous trap was completely gone – all that brilliance and danger destroyed, just because it didn't work out this time. What was wrong with keeping it for another day? Not that he *wanted* Luther to keep it or use it again, but the waste was extravagant. And so very Luthor-like. When Hope switched topics on him mid-stream, Clark flinched. He'd been trying so hard not to feel guilty for what he'd said anyhow. But still… "I don't know why he bothers."

"No, of course you don't. Black and white morality hero, nothing exists outside of your rules! Either it's good or it's bad. I suppose it makes it simple for you – but I hope you get run over at a frickin' zebra crossing!"

Superman's mouth hung open. He wasn't used to people *defending* Luthor. But still… "Luthor's attacked me or set me up to be attacked an average of twenty times a year in the last ten years! Do you know what it's like to have a missile explode on you? Let alone all the damn kryptonite!"

"Probably about same as a kick on the shin or a slap across the face!" Hope snapped right back. "You're invulnerable, for God's sake! And you're complaining about a few boo boos? You don't even know what pain is! As soon as the source has gone, you heal. One moment, intense pain – the next, boom, up and running. Did you like being sick just now? Most *humans* are taken down by the flu at least once a year, let alone things like broken bones, kidney stones, UTIs, cramps, food sickness… and that's just the normal run-of-mill stuff that happens to us. God! And you're worried about a bee sting once in awhile?"

It was close enough to what Superman regularly told himself that he didn't actually have an immediate reply. 

Hope took a breath and then went on, "And what about now? If Lex *hadn't* been doing research on you all these years, do you think you'd be up and walking around right now? Who else even *knows* about Yellow Sun energy, let alone how to cure a kryptonite-mutated virus?"

Okay, that was a bit too far. "So, what, all this is done out of the goodness of his heart?!"

"No, it's because I loathe you and very much *enjoy* seeing you curled up in pain, even if it doesn't last." Lex came back into the lab, carrying some hand tools. "Hope, quit quoting Douglas Adams at The Idiot, and go get me details on any and all hantavirus research on cures and treatment."

Clark jumped – he hadn't known Lex could hear them.

Hope's reply was matter of fact – it was obvious that *she* had known. "I can do two things at one time; I've been searching. So far, there's nothing solid, just experimentals."

"Then get me the experiments!" Lex snapped, and reached over and turned off the computer connection. He grabbed a step-ladder from another corner and dragged it over to the table. "Hang on," he said, and clicked a switch. The yellow sunlight went off.

Instantly, Clark collapsed. He curled up on the dark floor, his stomach in knots, his head pounding, his insides exploding. He didn't pass out, but he wanted to. This was seriously worse than kryptonite exposure. When all was said and done, that was just pain. This… this was horrible. After his conversation with Hope, he had to wonder if this was something humans experienced regularly. What was this? And when would it end?

 

After what seemed like forever, everything slowly settled back into something approaching normal. Clark was still curled up on the floor, but most of the effects were mitigated. He could hear Lex moving around and raised his head. After looking and seeing not much, he lowered it again. At least the floor was cool. His arm hurt. _Let's try this again._ Clark grabbed the table leg to steady himself and then sat up. _Better._ With a bit of an effort, he was able to stand, and then he felt a lot better. Stretching, he turned his face up to the light. _Oh._ The panel that had been focusing the rays on the experiment table had been re-engineered. No longer contained, it was lighting up the whole room, and he wasn't sure, but despite the extra diffusion, it seemed to feel stronger.

Lex had somehow connected two of the lab stations into one long one, and was currently rearranging equipment. The focus had changed from isolating and identifying biological specimens to one of genetic engineering. DNA fragment separators, a small halo-grammatic display meant to represent three-dimensional protein structures, live-cell fluorescence imaging microscopes… He also had gotten several frozen and dried samples out and was carefully reviving them.

"If you're up, you can help with the samples. Once we have the structures of the hantavirus cure experiments, we're going to have to work with what we have to make a cure for this mutated space pseudo-virus. And to make it, we're going to have to do some creative engineering."

Clark looked with dismay at his ex-friend-turned-enemy-turned-doctor. Clark wasn't half-bad at biology, what with the work he'd done in the Fortress, doing his own experiments on his Kryptonian background, and Lex certainly was a genius and obviously worked with it a lot, between his corporate responsibilities and other mad-scientist experiments. But still… To engineer a biological cure to a virus? That wouldn't be worse than the first? That was a very daunting task, and he was, to put it mildly, a bit worried. "Lex, if it's just a virus, why don't we just wait until I get better? I can suffer through the symptoms for a few days."

Lex put down the equipment he was working on and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Did the virus scramble your brains already? Or are you just naturally deficient? No, don't respond to that because I know the answer already. Idiot." He shook his head. "Do I really have to explain this to you?"

"Um," Clark wasn't really sure.

"First of all, if this is similar to a hantavirus, do you really want to go through renal failure and kidney shut-down? How are we supposed to get a donated kidney for replacement? Pull a criminal out of the Phantom Zone and ask him nicely, or tell her she's been volunteered? Second, even if it was as mild as a human flu, we have no idea how *you* will react to it. You haven't had a cold since you were 15! As far as I can tell from your blood tests, you barely even *have* an immune system. Your body has nothing to practice on, ever. Third, it's a God-damned *mutated* virus. Do you really expect it to be something survivable?"

Right. That, well, yeah, that took care of all of Clark's objections. He shut his mouth and started working silently on his half of the samples. This was weird. This was beyond weird, it was unreal. Was he really working with Lex Luthor on a project to save Superman from a mutant space virus? Okay, compared to his regular days... one might call this normal. And yeah, he did work with Luthor on a fairly regular basis anyhow – if some other supervillain actually did something that really threatened earth, or there was a bending of some space-physics rule from something a mad scientist broke somewhere, then usually it was Lex Luthor or one of the other less-insane mad scientists that the Justice League worked with to fix it. It was all part and parcel of the weird relationships that heroes seemed to have with their primary opponents. Batman theorized that it had to do with the possessiveness the villains seemed to have – they wanted to be the only ones to kill their hero or destroy the world, nobody else could. But that seemed too simple for Lex. Lex Luthor was never simple.

Clark glanced sideways, trying to study Lex without seeming to. His concentration on the lab work, Lex didn't turn around or say anything, but knowing him, he probably noticed and was just deciding to ignore it. For all the intensity that he'd delivered that last speech… for somebody who knew him fifteen years ago, there was something missing. Some part of Lex that had the fire that had captivated the young farmboy. Still slim and lean, Lex hadn't changed much physically from back then. A little stronger, a few lines around the eyes. It was in other things that he was different; Lex had lost the youthful expressions and gestures he used to use – hand running over his head, half-turns away, eyes worried for people. No longer nervous or uneasy in anything, his confident attitude was no longer adopted from his father's, but his very own. As was the charisma. Clark was used to the power of Lex's magnetism. He'd had years to get used to it, in all its various forms. But it had been ... what, ten years? Eight? since the last time Luthor had even tried using a part of his charisma on Clark. Clark supposed he should be thankful. He watched Luthor manipulate and charm his way through almost anybody, and even those who knew better, like Lois and Aquaman, would compromise on negotiations they wouldn't for almost anybody else. But Luthor didn't try with Superman, and he didn't even speak to Clark. 

At press conferences, Clark and Lois would stand side by side, hands up for questions, and Luthor would call on Lois regularly... and never Clark. Not once. If Clark shouted a question, it was ignored until Lois repeated it. It had become something of a joke within the press community, because while Clark was never called on for anything, he was still one of the main Luthor Corp coverage reporters, and he still had his press access into everything. Lex never once tried to deny him that, or to keep him out of anything. He just wouldn't talk to him as Clark, and he fought with Superman.

And Luthor still killed people. With no more care than if they were just part of the experimental flies in a jar. Superman couldn't forget Dion; he wouldn't forget. Mutated with no hope anyhow, and then shot dead. And while the second might be considered in Superman's defense, the first was rather the opposite. He didn't want people killed just because Luthor had thought of a new way to test his kryptonite reactions. And yet, here he was, working side-by-side with him... because what were his options? 

No, that thought was false - Clark had options... he just wasn't using them right now. He was working with a murderer, to save his own life, and going around in circles. Luthor always did this to him. No matter what the past, when they got to a moment in the present, things just flew out the window. Clark didn't want to be in a position where he cared as little about people as Lex did, and yet, somehow, they always ended up here. It was unforgivable... until the next time they had to work on something. And this something was even different than the usual somethings. Just a few minutes ago, the concern in Lex's face, the gentle touches – the very real sentiment in Lex's voice as he said that he loathed Clark. Between the two of them, Clark rather suspected that Lex was even more messed up than him. Well, okay, he *knew* that. And he couldn't help but think that a lot of it was his fault, even if it had been fifteen years. 

He was never going to figure it out. He'd tried, over the years. Lex Luthor scared him more than any other human, mutant, or alien. And there were more than enough reasons to just leave him to take the consequences of his own actions. And still... and still Superman rescued Luthor. Still they worked together. Still they fought. Still they ignored each other. They were in some sort of weird holding pattern, and it wouldn't break. With a sigh, Clark turned his full attention back to the virus. At least that was a solvable problem. Hopefully.

 

After about ten minutes of the strained partnership, where they barely spoke except to discuss the next stages and steps, there was a chime from the remote computer set up next to Lex. Lex reached over and turned it back on again.

"Transmitting data," Hope reported. "Here's everything within all the world's databases. I've also compiled composites of those that are the most likely, and those that fit our parameters. Working right now on computational models for our virus and the most likely transitions from what you have available in the mobile lab."

Lex shoved his samples over to Clark's side of the table and started working instead on the computer models with Hope. Clark kept looking over, slightly awed at the pair. He thought they could even give Oracle a run for her money. And he was started to feel a bit better about the possibilities.

"Okay, we're going to work with the BX-56 samples as starting points," was the final decision after quite a bit of back and forth. 

Clark looked over everything they had out. Of all the ones Lex had anticipated, there weren't any BX samples. BT, and BY… but not BX. Great. "I'll go get them," he announced, and went over to the freezer.

There was a sudden stilled silence from the remote computer. "Lex," Hope said in a deadly chilled voice, "HOW is Clark able to get the samples when I KNOW the freezers are on the other side from the YS table?"

"I injected him with the anti-kryptonite serum I've been working on. It's temporary, but it cleared out all the poisons that had been building up and he's okay for awhile."

Stopping mid-step, Clark looked at his arm, which was still a bit sore. Sure enough, there was a red-injection mark that hadn't healed yet. _Anti-kryptonite?_

"Bull," was Hope's pronouncement.

"I assure you—" Lex started, very corporate-dignified, but he was interrupted.

"Oh, I believe you got the serum and it worked – I just don’t believe that's what has the Super-Idiot walking around freely in the lab right now." Her voice sharpened, "Spandex hero – did Lex take the paneling off the Yellow Sun emitter?"

Clark grabbed the samples and headed back, answering cautiously, "Yes," though Lex was shaking his head at him.

"Damnit," Lex muttered under his breath.

"And tell me also, is the OTHER small-thinking, bull-headed idiot in the room wearing a radiation suit?"

A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach that wasn't that different than the sickly flu reaction. "No," he replied, eyeing Lex who looked angrily resigned, "and he's looking a bit sun-burnt." Now that Hope had brought it to his attention, it was obvious that the pale-skinned scientist was unusually pink, though not quite red yet. Clark eyed the YS emitter a bit nervously. It hadn't even crossed his mind, what the strong emissions might do to humans. He felt perfectly fine, in fact, a bit better than fine. "How powerful is that thing anyhow?"

"After the Mad Scientist has played with it? Who the hell knows." Hope snorted. "I would guess that right now it's probably equivalent to the tropics up somewhere between the stratosphere and mesosphere. It can't be too bad, or all the samples would be unusable, and he would have taken that into account. But I'm sure it's bad enough or he wouldn't have cut out my cam. Hindsight. Lex, I'm not going to tell you twice – go get into your radiation suit."

With a sigh, Lex gave mild protest, "I can't work in those suits," and a 'what can you do' look at Clark, and wandered casually out the door.

"You can work just *fine* in those suits – hundreds of scientists without your stupid healing abilities work in those suits all the damn time! You're just being a stupid stubborn suicidal idiot as usual!" Hope took a breath and then let it out. "Goddamn stupid idiot…"

This time, Clark knew that Lex could still hear them, but he still wanted to ask, "How bad is it?"

Hope sighed, "Who knows? He could be dying, and we wouldn't know until he was stiff and in the grave. This? Probably at least a few days of 'vacation' while he heals." She raised her voice, "Shall I have Charity start rearranging your calendar?" There wasn't an immediate answer, and she shrugged. "He pushes his abilities. He heals fast, but he still gets hurt just like most normal people. Last year, after that fight with you in Illinois, he didn't even show his face in Metropolis for ten days. Other than the computer scans showing somebody got out after the explosion, we had no idea if he was alive or not."

"*After* the explosion?" Clark remembered that fight well. He had wondered himself, when Lex didn't come out. He'd flown into the burning building over and over again, searching with x-ray with hearing, with every sense… Nothing. When Luthor had a press conference as usual two weeks later, Clark had thought there must have been a back-door exit or something. 

"After," Hope confirmed.

_Dang, I'm starting to feel guilty again._ Clark reminded himself that it was Lex who had been experimenting illegally, that it was *his* slip-shoddy safety regulations that let the generators over-heat, and that the explosion was a direct result of Luthor's meddling. Superman had come in to stop it and had ended up saving several of the scientists. Though not all. That time, he really thought Luthor had pushed his luck too far. Right – that thought was enough to change it from guilt to anger again. "It's a shame the other scientists left inside didn't also have his healing." His words were bitter, full of the lives he couldn't save.

 

"I think," Hope said slowly, "that you don't understand scientists. Or at least not the ones we work with. Believe me, they knew full well what the risks were, and were more than happy to work within those risks rather than never see their research developed within their lifetimes."

"Just because you get volunteers to kill themselves, doesn't make it right. Our laws are designed to protect *everybody*, whether they're capable of it or not."

"Yes, seatbelts, car-seats, no sitting in the back of trucks… unless it directly applies to *you*. How often, Superman, do you obey the laws when you go bursting into things you think other people are disobeying? How often do you respect the people who have to come in and clean up after one of your massively destructive fights? Do you call into air control every time you go off on an overhead flight? Didn't the military loose a couple of multi-billion dollar missiles just last month when you flew into their test zone and they locked onto you instead of the drone?"

Superman winced – that missile thing had been a definite mistake. "That in no way compares to getting people killed," he said tightly.

"And you think your government that sets those laws, that makes those rules, that *enforces* their whims, does not kill?" Hope answered just as rigidly. "My sisters and I grew up in Suicide Slums, Superman. We know very well what type of people run this government, and what they are willing, and not willing to do. Lex works with them on a regular basis, and can tell you well, if you are willing to hear, just what each of those in power did to *get* that power. Sure, there's a few good, honest ones doing their best out there… but those are the few and far between. And not so powerful; if they do start getting power, they usually get their asses handed to them on a plate as soon as somebody bothers to attend to them. We've rammed through at least a dozen medical and technological advances in the last six years that we had to *change* laws to get tested and approved. People who have their money in other pies don't want to see real progress. And those of us who want progress sometimes have to make sacrifices to get them." Hope took another breath and continued on, "Are you going to refuse Lex's help right now? You're working right beside him… and I assure you, *this* is beyond illegal in every single nation and state in the civilized world, doing un-approved genetic research. Shall we wait ten years for it to make it through the various approvals? What about the trials? Animal testing?"

"For Gods' sake, Hope, stop harassing him. You're going to force him to confront that black and white morality of his, and then he'll heroically say, 'no, I don’t approve of this' and then we'll have to let him fall unconscious and then work on the virus that way. Believe me, I seriously considered that already. This, though it may not look like it, is easier." Lex came back in, dressed in what appeared to be a radiation suit, though it was a lot slimmer and more mobile version of a rad suit than Superman had ever seen before. Rather form-fitting, in fact, with a hood draping down over his head almost elegantly. That wasn't plastic in the front either. And it was purple and gold. Superman stared.

Luthor caught his eye, "You *aren't* going to be stupid about this, are you?"

"Purple? Is that of alien manufacture?" was all Clark thought to say, completely distracted by the suit. And not really wanting to answer the question.

Hope burst out laughing. "I don't even have to see it to know which one you're wearing!"

Lex sighed and went back to the research table. "Yes, call Charity. Have her take half the appointments and divide the others between Martin and Souza. Give it about… five days. I should be back before then, but we might as well take the opportunity to see how they do with unexpected pressure."

Clark handed the scientist the BX-56 samples that he'd prepared. Lex took them, and pulled up the diagrams that Hope had been working on. Together, they worked on some modeling scenarios, preparing for actually pulling apart the RNA. Unobtrusively, Clark also kept an eye on Lex, x-raying through the suit, checking to see how much the radiation had affected him. The pale skin was definitely sunburned now, bright red and mottled in places. It looked painful, but Lex gave no outward sign that he was suffering, or that there were any internal problems. Again, Clark was reminded of their early years, when Lex would be beaten down from one crazy person or mutant or another, and then show up the next day apparently fine. A lot of it was just the gigantic control that he had. Do not show weakness, the herd is circling. Sometimes, when they were alone in the castle, Clark could get Lex to let his guard down more. But since their friendship had blown up, Lex only seemed to get more remote. Not showing things wasn't just the scientist, it wasn't just the businessman, it was Lex himself. Compared with what they'd used to have, it was like ice had formed around his heart and there was nothing real left there. The only thing that disproved that was Luthor's bouts of temper, when Superman pushed him and he pushed back until they were both fighting at the top of their lungs as well as whatever physical contest they were having at the time. But even so… there was something missing.

"You do realize that I am ignoring your thinking," Lex reached for a new sample.

"What?"

"It's very weighty. Plus, you've x-rayed me eighteen times in the last ten minutes."

Clark flushed. He'd forgotten that Lex somehow could tell when he used his powers.

"So how is he doing?" Hope interjected. "Since he still hasn't turned on my cam on that end…"

"Sunburn is starting to blister. All over his body – clothes didn't seem to block the rays at all. Can't tell about anything internal, though. He's moving fine, but as you know, that means nothing." It was weird to actually talk to Hope about that. Even back in high school, nobody else cared. And no, he didn't *really* care now. But it was a hard habit to break, especially while they were standing there working together.

"'He' is doing just fine, thank you very much. Can we get back to the project, please?" Lex shook his head. "I want to do some test runs. Superman, how are we on samples?"

Okay, now *that* was startling, hearing his other name, when he was in the midst of thinking about high school. But of anything through the years, Lex had always been very careful about his identity. More careful than Clark himself, if he was being honest about it.

"We're good." They had enough samples prepared to do several trials, and he could keep working on others while Lex did the engineering. Lex was definitely the expert – Clark had fiddled with some biology work in the Fortress, but nothing quite to this level. While this was Lex's main hobby. That, and trying to kill him. Or hurt him. Or run really weird tests on him while hurting him.

"All right…" Lex took a breath and put the prepared dishes into the RNA separator station. Delicately, he took the controls and started the process of reassembling puzzle pieces.

\---

 

An hour later, Clark put what he was holding down and took a steadying grip on the table. By this point, he recognized the symptoms. Whatever extra time the YS energy had given him had run out. He didn't feel sick so much as tired and weak. Which he hoped didn't mean that the virus had mutated or all their current efforts would be for not. As quietly as he could, he moved back towards the original YS experiment table. Despite what Lex had done to expand it, the strongest concentration of rays was still there. 

And as quietly as he moved, it wasn't enough to miss the sharp eyes of his pseudo-sometime-enemy, current-rescuer. Lex turned towards him, blue eyes through the face-plate sharp with concern.

Clark waved him off. "I'll just rest here for a bit."

Lex moved his gaze up to the projector, "I can turn it up…"

"No." God, Clark wanted him to. But, no. The possibility existed that the extra radiation could ruin all their experiments and it would be for not. It wasn't a definite, but it had been raised a few times while they were designing models. And Lex knew that too. With another look, measuring how serious Clark was, Lex nodded and then turned back to the work. And wasn't that a bit of a scary thought in itself? That Lex would have risked it all, just to give Clark more comfort? The scientist did tend to the edges of the risk patterns, but still… 

Clark sat down on the floor and leaned back against the table leg. He was starting to tremble from the weakness. He would just rest his eyes for a minute.

\---

 

Slowly, he came back to himself, with the realization that he'd passed out. He didn't know how long he'd been out. But there was a warm fuzzy blanket around him, and clear thoughts in his head. Taking a deep breath, the air went in smoothly and nothing hurt. Clark stretched gingerly, remembering the narrow table he'd been on before. Apparently, Lex had done something, and what he was laying on now was a bit wider. And a bit uncomfortable, with this bump down the middle… that's what he'd done. Lex had put two tables together, somehow solidly, perhaps welded. 

Clark held the blanket a bit closer to him; he thought he could smell Lex on it. Probably it was Lex's napping blanket, kept for his late nights in the lab. And why couldn't he hear Lex? He sat up, abandoning the temptation to sleep a bit longer. He was in the lab, all right, but there wasn't any sign of anybody else. The stations had all been cleaned up, things returned to their proper spots. The frantic work they been doing, the sample dishes everywhere, the test-tubes, the computer monitors… all of it like it just hadn't happened. Except that he was better. And... and he could remember some snatches now. 

He'd been fevered, sweating. Lex had been doing the 'wipe the forehead with a damp cloth' thing that his mom used to do. Unless he was mixing that up with the last time he was sick when he was a kid. No, he didn't think he'd remember his mom saying, anything like, 'the dead virus cells are expelling from his body, perfectly normal,' and, 'well, at least we know now he *has* an immune system – just needed a guide to kick-start it.' There were other things mixed in those memories, but he wasn't as sure about those. Embarrassing things related to expelling viruses from his body. He hoped they weren't real memories... but he was afraid they were. God, the things he owed Lex for this big time... Wasn't there a limit to what your worst enemy who loathed you would do for you? Apparently not in this weird relationship of theirs.

Clark got down off the table, clutching the blanket around him – this time, his cape was gone too. He walked to the rows of cubby banks of kryptonite and put a hand up, marveling at the smooth clear surface between him and them. He couldn't feel them, not at all. The chunky green stone just sat there, like any other rock. From this vantage, it wasn't evil, it wasn't malevolent; it was just a rock. Looked like a piece of common fluorite. Kindof a pretty one at that. And so was the one next to it, and the one next to that one… A shiver went down his spine. Lex had just saved him, and yet, Lex had the ability to kill him. Lex had just cared for him and cleaned him, and yet, Lex had just before tortured him to an inch of his ability to recover. Lex had just killed to save him, and killed to experiment on him. 

Which was the true Lex Luthor? Clark's memory showed him smiles that lit up the room when he entered, a joy restrained, an intense devotion and belief in a fifteen-year old that was as unreal as it was undeserved. And yet, at the time, he'd soaked it up like the sun. Then there was the businessman Luthor, absorbing companies like osmosis, ruthless in dealings; blackmail was certain, and stronger armed tactics were suspected if not proven. Everything his father, Lionel Luthor, had taught him, applied on even a larger scale than even that bastard had dreamed of. There was Lex Luthor, founder of the Legion of Doom – completely unrepentant of organizing villains and mixing with them as easily as he did at a business party. There was also the scientist. The room he was in attested to that part of Lex, and Clark suspected that of all his facets, this was the truest, the one closest to what Lex himself actually *wanted* to do. But that wasn't the one they saw most often. The ones they generally saw were the businessman and the villain. The super-villain who took pot shots at pretty much all members of the Justice League, while concentrating on Superman, yet somehow never either succeeded nor ended up in jail for all he did. The villain combination tended to be a mix of the scientist and the businessman. Until now, Clark had thought that the Lex from his childhood had been mostly a dream. Something he'd thought of when he'd needed his own hero, a young teenager eager to listen to the tales of an older boy, who would freely give him advice and encouragement for Lana and anything else he wanted to do. Clark had thought that whatever part of that hadn't been a lie had long ago been smothered under the tender mercies of Lionel and his own carelessness. Leaving only an enemy.

And now? Just what was there now?

Walking down the aisle of kryptonite, Superman shivered. The destructive power in this room was enough to kill him ten times over. Not to mention other things. He glared at a piece of red crystal and longed to burn through the transparent lead and destroyed the hateful thing. Red was so much worse a color than green. He hated red. Really, truly, hated it. And he had memories from red that were also conflicted to Lex Luthor. Two times when he'd been on red kryptonite, he'd flown to Lex. Flown to him and... and his memories were fuzzy on the rest. At least, he hoped they were fuzzy. Because he really, really didn't want them to be real. But one thing was certain, because those particular memories were sharp and clear... Lex had, each time, taken the red stones from him and then let him go. Helped him deal with the consequences of his madness, and never ever said a word about it again. Twice. Twice, he'd gone from fuzzy memories to clear headed... and had received a lead box before he'd flown out of the penthouse. God, Clark hated this. He leaned his head up against the smooth clear feel of lead, separated from the kryptonite by only inches... inches and invisible lead... and closed his eyes. 

The door behind him opened, and Clark reluctantly turned. He wasn't sure if at this moment he was Clark Kent or Superman, or if he would meet Lex or Luthor. Even though his memories from 15 years ago may not have been as false as he thought they had, the blue eyes that watched him now certainly didn't have much of anything resembling trust or love in them now. They were so controlled, so careful, so remote. When they did show emotion, it was usually hate or irritation. But Clark now knew that they could also contain concern and worry. Which wasn't so unusual if it was directed at, say, Mercy or Hope. But directed to him? It threw Clark's whole world off balance.

"We've been running tests, and it looks like all the virus in your body has been destroyed and processed. The room and your clothes have been decontaminated." Lex's voice showed nothing of the concern; it was all just matter-of-fact, business-controlled. Except that he'd also taken off the radiation suit and was dressed in loose sweat-pants and a plain grey t-shirt. Clothes that Clark hadn't seen on him in years. But were obviously chosen for their comfort, as the radiation blisters had opened and were big red open sores all over his body. Healing, but horribly painful-looking. Seeing them, Clark winced. At that, Lex's expression tightened into the familiar scorn and rejection.

A pile of blue and red cloth was tossed at him. "Get dressed and meet me in the control room." Lex turned and walked out, his whole stance one of prideful irritation.

_Great._ Well, it managed to avoid the whole painful 'what now' conversation that Clark had been bracing himself for. He should have known that Lex would have been as eager to avoid it as he was. They just weren't very good at talking. At least talking that didn't involve yelling.

Unbidden, memories arose of long days and nights in the Beanery, Talon, and Castle where they would discuss anything and everything, topics ranging from 1500 B.C. to 3000 A.D., from Lana Lang to Angelina Jolie, from earth geology to space astronomy, from crap farming to genetic engineering... Clark shoved all those memories to one side with a sigh, sweeping them back where they had been buried. He sped into his suit, noting how clean it was... looked like Lex had run it through a sterilizer as well. And no cape again, dang it. 

He went through door that Lex kept using, and found himself in yet another wonder of technology. Where he had been was a state of the art laboratory, if a bit small. Where he was now... "This is a spaceship??"

"Mobile laboratory," Lex replied casually, seated at the control panel where he was maneuvering the ship back into Earth atmosphere. There wasn't even a bump in the gravity fields as they passed through.

"Seriously?" Okay, Superman *knew* that Luthor routinely went roaming outside Earth, using technology gleamed over the years from the other extra-terrestrial visitors, both friends and enemies. But knowing it, and being inside one of them was a totally different thing. It made him feel like a kid again. Especially with Lex dressed in something he only remembered from long before. He hadn't seen Lex in anything other than a suit or villain-wear for years.

Taking a break from the controls, Luthor turned his head far enough to shoot him another look of distain, and Clark was abruptly hauled back to the present again. He sighed. "Do you have my cape?"

Lex didn't answer at first, his attention returned to the ship. Once they were inside the atmosphere, he set a few commands on the computer and then left the controls.

"Er..." Clark looked from the hands-off control panel to the viewscreen to Lex.

"No, it's not an A.I.," Lex responded impatiently, "Yes, it can handle something as simple as directions in the open stratosphere!"

"Have we been flying this whole time?"

"Circles around the moon, mostly. I wanted us out far enough in case something went wrong, but close enough that we could get help if needed." Lex picked up a bright red cloth. "Where do you keep your suit and glasses? I couldn't find a pocket..."

And Superman wasn't really sure if he wanted to show him. But he did owe Luthor something for this... Something, and more. "It's here," and reached out to unseal the seam about mid-line down the cape.

Lex's eyes brightened, and his whole body came to point, his curiosity aroused and his concentration intense as he explored. "A bag of holding?"

Clark couldn't help but laugh. Lex's habit of mixing the dorky fantasy references with the technology was so very him... just like the Star Trek one earlier. "More or less. Pocket dimensions, solid space. It's about the size of a briefcase inside, so not that large. The A.I. builds them in." And this eager, intense Lex was so likable... he wasn't turning his charm on Clark, but he was being himself, and that was rare enough to make Clark yearn for the years gone by. This was the Lex he remembered. A glimpse only, but such a sight. Lex was handsome still, and even moreso like this, healing sores or not. If only Lex would be like this all of the time, instead of scarce moments between the hate. Clark tried to swallow his longing. It wouldn't change anything; it never did.

"I see..." With an envious glance that was obvious, Lex put off exploring and instead reached out to a shelf where there were four slim cases about notebook size. He put three of them into the cape's pocket, and opened the fourth to show Clark. There were three slim syringes in each, along with several tubes of a yellow-mix solution. "This is the anti-kryptonite." 

It was Clark's turn to straighten up, his breath catching in his throat. Had Lex really...?

"The effects are temporary as they process through your body, but one injection should stave off a reaction for at least ten minutes, probably more but uncertain how much more. Your body processes things unusually quick, once it recognizes a foreign body. Once we had the virus cure injected, you seemed to wake up to the fact that this was a bad thing and your body rejected the virus even faster than the cure could kill it."

Yeah, okay, those had been real memories, of the fever and such. Clark was sure he was blushing, but Lex was continuing with the lecture, ignoring Clark's discomfort.

"It's most effective after you've already been poisoned. If you take a shot before you go into a situation where there might be kryptonite, it will block the influences, but not as strongly. And no, I don't know why it's less effective that way. Something about the mental component to kryptonite reactions, I suspect." Lex glared at the solution as if it was its fault. "I wasn't actually ready to release this yet... it needs a lot more testing... but as long as it's proved to work..." He shrugged, "Every test knows when to move from trial. I'll be monitoring after-effects though. Let me know if anything weird happens after you use it."

Suddenly, the package looked less like manna from heaven and a bit more like a time bomb. Superman eyed it a bit more warily.

"The needles are faintly kryptonite-tipped, in order to pierce your skin."

Well, that explained one thing he'd been wondering about earlier. It must be very mildly tipped, though, as he couldn't feel the kryptonite from only a few feet away.

"You have four cases, and I suggest you give them only to the people that you trust not just help you but also not to get curious about it and start prying." 

Clark raised his head to look at Lex. His voice had gone a bit funny on the last sentence, and it wasn't something he recognized. The look in Lex's eyes was serious and intense. And... there was a bit of pleading in there. Something else he hadn't seen for a long time. He wondered if Lex knew he was revealing it. "Why?"

"Because what can save can also kill," Lex said softly. "Anybody who gets ahold of this... can also figure out your weakness. It's a cure... but it's a key to the ultimate poison. Green kryptonite in itself is not pure, and it poisons you imperfectly. Even if somebody distilled it and injected it directly in... it wouldn't kill you. At least not immediately, though you might wish it did. This, though..." Lex tapped the box as he closed the lid, "This is geared to your genes and your very specific DNA. It will cure you of any type of kryptonite currently known and probably unknown too."

Clark gulped, "Red?"

"Yes, red. And blue, and yellow, and pink, grey—" Lex's list was cut off.

"Gold?" If gold was reversible, Clark would be so sorely tempted... if only for a few hours.

Lex focused his gaze on Superman, "Don't you *even* try and use that deliberately. I haven't done enough research into gold to know what all it does beyond break down your solar energy processing, but I can tell you that it is definitely not part of the other types." Lex shook his head, "All the others are just different forms of the radiation mixing with the crystals as they broke from the planet. Every different type is based on the structure of the original penetration. Green, the most common, is from the building materials. Red is from the piping and most contained growth such as furnaces." 

Clark interrupted again, "Piping? Furnaces?" 

"Water pipes, air vents, gas pipes... you know the types. In Kryptonian buildings, the internal structure is just as organic and pre-programmed as the external. Haven't you ever wondered how the water in your Fortress gets in and is processed? Or why some of the rooms are heated? When growing a building, the control crystals program variations into the structure based on the needs. They all start off with the most pure type of crystal, similar to a stem cell, and then divide out from there, guided and hooked into the main control crystals."

This was more than Superman himself knew about his own Fortress. He knew some of it... but for Lex to have *researched* it and figured it out... his head was reeling. But Lex was going on.

"Gold kryptonite doesn't fit the same basic crystalline properties as the others. I suspect that it was created by your people as a deliberate punishment. Perhaps before they invented the Phantom Zone. Or after. In a red sun environment, the effects of gold kryptonite would be near to a death sentence. And here? Here, they might be muted, but I still don't know what a long-term result would be. And I doubt that *that*," he nodded to the box, "would have any great effect. It's not poison, it's something else entirely." Lex regarded him with scorn, "Use the blue if you want to get away from your 'responsibilities' for awhile." He even used air quotes around 'responsibilities' to emphasize his derision.

So much for that idea. And Lex was right about the blue. Superman just... sometimes he just dreamed of being normal, still. To *not* be responsible for the world. But he couldn't really do it. For he knew he would want his powers again, if they were lost. It happened enough in crises to show it just wasn't for him. As much as he dreamed of normalcy, it just wasn't in his cards, and he didn't really want it to be.

Lex sealed the fourth box in the dimension pocket with the others and then handed the cape to Superman. "Promise me you won't give any of it to Batman."

In the midst of swinging his cape back on, Clark paused and eyed him curiously. Okay, yes, Batman was among the *most* likely to experiment and deconstruct it, but Lex's tone had held something else.

"Of all your so-called 'friends,' the Batman is the most likely to kill you if you are ever not yourself. He puts the 'greater good' so far above everything, that he will not hesitate, even if there are other options available." Lex snorted, "He really needs a balance, a partner to remind him he's human. He is so far into his Dark Knight routine that there is currently only one person who can bring him back, and Alfred is already old."

Clark hoped his mouth wasn't hanging open. He knew that Lex knew who *he* was, but, Bruce? He tried anyhow, "Who is Alfred?"

Lex shot him an irritated look and then moved off to another part of the ship, clearly expecting Superman to follow him. "Not the point. Do not give that to Batman, whoever else you might trust. Do not trust him, for he will kill you."

That, actually, was what most sane people said about Lex Luthor. Hearing Lex tell him that about *Batman* was a bit unreal. "I don't have to worry about that," he replied a bit flippantly, "If I go rouge, well, that's what you're here for; you'll have no problems killing me."

Lex stopped mid-step and Clark ran into him. As Clark stumbled back, Lex whipped around, "You think I would—" he hauled himself up verbally, regaining his control piece by piece but leaving in its place a blazing anger that almost scalded Clark with its intensity. "Pick another fail-safe. I refuse to be your deadman's switch!"

Clark was moreorless speechless. He tried to say something, but couldn't get anything coherent out.

"If you think that, you can just go to hell! There is only one person on this earth that I would protect from you, and I just don't give a damn about the rest of the place. If you or an alternate form of you wants to blow them all up, myself included, feel free! I know *you* care, but I sure as hell don't!"

With the final words, Lex savagely punched a button on the side of the wall and then shoved Clark into the alcove that opened. 

Clark was so far off-balance from the unexpected verbal attack that he didn't resist just long enough for the door to slide shut again. There was a small explosion of pressures mixing and then he was tumbling out of the airlock, spinning wildly while falling. After a minute he was able to pull himself straight and glanced around. The small spaceship was nowhere in sight. 

"But... but that's what you've been working for all along," he said to the empty air and floating clouds. "Protect us against the alien here to destroy Earth. Isn't that your standard line? I thought... I always thought *you* would be the one..."

* * *

END

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> {Reaaaalllllly early work. Writing style has changed over the years...}  
> (Yeah, ending it there. In good comic fashion. ^^ Go forth with imaginations and have fun with anything after!)   
> (Yes, I do have my own idea of after... but it went epic. And isn't done and sadly isn't likely to be done. So... enjoy this part, as is.)


End file.
